


Bleed Confusion

by arielmagicesi



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Slow Burn, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9656543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arielmagicesi/pseuds/arielmagicesi
Summary: Ronan only agreed to get a tutor because he agreed he was going to get his life back together, and part of that is going along with some of Gansey's annoying ideas. Adam's only in the tutoring program because his favorite teacher runs it and it'll help him get into college and out of Henrietta. long story short: they eventually fall in love <3





	1. the tutoring job

**Author's Note:**

> yes I may have been inspired by a certain @LydiaStJames so what... Also, the title is from "Bleed Confusion" by the Paper Kites, which I have forcibly associated with Pynch because I really love that song  
> also to clear up some things: they're high school seniors, Aglionby is a coed school, and it's not as expensive and fancy as in the books. it's up in the air in my head whether it's a really good public school or a less-expensive private school where Adam and Blue are on scholarship.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” was probably the wrong first thing to say when seeing a new student, Adam thought after the fact.

It wasn’t his fault, really. Ms. Poldma should have thought twice before assigning him to tutor the biggest asshole in the school, particularly the one that she knew Adam hated. The guy who just barely beat him for the top spot in Latin, even though he always talked back to the teachers and showed up late, if he showed up at all.

“Great opening line, Parrish,” Ronan said, from where he was dangerously leaning his chair back. Ms. Poldma was sitting next to him, looking frazzled.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Adam said quickly, directing it at Ms. Poldma, who- despite the fact that she should have seen this coming- probably wasn’t too happy to see the star of her tutoring program cursing out another student.

It was just that Ronan Lynch was _such_ an asshole.

“Don’t have to call me ma’am,” Ronan said, proving Adam’s point. Adam scowled at him.

“Look,” Ms. Poldma said. “I know- well- I know you two might not get along-”

“That’s an understatement,” Ronan muttered, fidgeting with the pencil on the desk.

“However,” Ms. Poldma continued, “Ronan, you have shown time and time over that you have academic potential, but you’re just facing some issues with study habits and focus. Our tutoring program has worked to help many students with these issues by pairing them with students who can mentor them through it.”

All of this was true, Adam mused- he’d had great success tutoring other students, and had even helped his friend (Ms. Poldma’s niece) Blue get an A in chemistry last year. It was possible, maybe, that Ronan would benefit from the tutoring program.

He just didn’t see why _he_ had to be Ronan’s tutor.

“Adam,” Ms. Poldma said, “you’re by far my best student. If you put aside your personal differences, I think you could be of great help here.”

She gave Adam a pleading look, and Adam was not very good at saying no to authorities, especially not Ms. Poldma, who was probably his favorite teacher.

“Fine,” Adam said, sighing in resignation. “What does he need tutoring in? Not Latin, I’m assuming.”

Ronan grinned maliciously at that, which only made Adam more irritated. He was always fucking gloating about being the top of the class.

“Mostly,” Ms. Poldma said, “he’s been having trouble with AP Bio and literature. But I think it wouldn’t hurt to help him with study skills and time management in general. I know you’re very good with those, Adam.”

“Hmm,” Adam said, because it was true that he was very good at managing his schedule and studying, but he was also unsure of how well Ronan would take to learning those skills.

“Anyway,” Ms. Poldma said, “this is just an initial meeting. Let’s work out a time for you to meet. Ronan’s said he’s available just about any time of the week.”

Typical.

“All right,” Adam said, “well, I can probably make time during study hall on Thursdays and Fridays. Does that work?”

“She just said I’m available whenever,” Ronan said. He was still, infuriatingly, leaning backwards in the chair.

“OK, then Thursdays and Fridays in study hall it is,” Adam said. “Can I go? I have to get to work soon.”

“Of course,” Ms. Poldma said. “Ronan, show up here on Thursday, OK?”

“Can’t make any promises,” Ronan said.

She leaned in and said softly, “You and Gansey talked about this.”

Ronan’s practiced expression of apathy fell. He stared down at his hands fidgeting with the pencil on the table.

“Fine,” he said, voice low. “I’ll be there on Thursday.”

“Good,” Adam said, really feeling the need to leave now that the air had gotten far more awkward. “See you then.”

He headed out of the door quickly, and down out the staircase that was next to the guidance office, out to the parking lot to pick up his bike at the bike rack. His eyes were set in that expression that he was beginning to feel was permanent, of utter exhaustion and irritation with everyone around him.

Like he didn’t have enough to deal with. Tutoring goddamn Ronan Lynch.

Something about it felt off. That little exchange of words between Ms. Poldma and Ronan before he’d left. About Gansey. Adam knew Gansey mostly from the fact that both of them did typical college-app-stuffing extracurriculars: community service club, National Honor Society, languages club, fitness class, things like that. They were pretty decent friends. Adam had found Gansey painfully intimidating and attractive when they’d first met freshman year, but now he just found him to be a generally nice guy.

His only downside, of course, being the fact that he was friends with Ronan.

But Adam wasn’t sure- something felt off. Like this whole tutoring thing was more about Ronan and Gansey’s weird not-entirely-healthy friendship and less about Ronan actually needing the tutoring. Adam didn’t know Ronan very well, but he could tell that Ronan was incredibly smart and didn’t need a tutor, he was just an asshole who didn’t want to try.

Adam hated assholes like that.

 

Ronan didn’t _hate_ Adam. Though, he hated most of everyone, to be frank. The world was usually quite easily divided for him into fierce hatred (that was Declan, and Kavinsky had been in that category too before he’d died), general hatred (Society as a concept, and everyone at this fucking school), and fierce love (Gansey, Noah, Matthew, his mother). Adam was in some weird abstract fourth category: tolerable, yet infuriatingly intolerable, yet magnetically fascinating.

He had to admit that even if he hated the idea of getting a tutor, at the very least it would be an interesting experience, if it was going to be Parrish.

He was only doing it because of Gansey, anyway.

Tutoring hadn’t really been part of the agreement, if you asked Ronan. The _agreement_ had been to start caring about being alive again. It felt dumb to do all this shit that Gansey and his stupid dumb new therapist were suggesting. Like ohhh, don’t drink, go to bed at a normal time, conceptualize the whatever-the-fuck of whatever. Get a fucking tutor. Conformist bullshit.

It didn’t make him feel alive again. Some part of him knew that it was better than sitting around doing nothing, holed up in his room with his loud electronica blaring, sketching shitty drawings. It was better to be doing all this extracurricular activities and therapy and things. But it didn’t make him feel like life was worth living, really; it was just stable.

And stable was better than last summer, anyway.

Ronan heard Gansey’s voice call “Lynch!” through the din of his headphones, so he tossed them off just before Gansey burst in the door of his room.

“I told you not to do that,” Ronan snapped.

“Sorry,” Gansey said, not sounding sorry. Which was infuriating. Ronan had to do all the shit _Gansey_ said. Which, OK, he didn’t half the time, but still.

“What’s happening?” Ronan asked.

“We’re meeting Henry at Nino’s,” Gansey said. “To discuss the-”

“No,” Ronan said.

Gansey sighed. “Ronan-”

“There is a _line,_ ” Ronan said. “I’m fine going to that dumb community service thing once a month, but I am not joining the goddamn student council. And I am not becoming pals with Henry Cheng.”

“You won’t even give him a chance,” Gansey said.

“Since when do I give any annoying Aglionby fuckers a chance?”

“I’m an annoying Aglionby fucker, I believe,” Gansey said.

Ronan grunted and crossed his arms.

“Besides,” Gansey said, “he doesn’t want you to join the student council. He wants you to help run a new club.”

“Wow, sounds even more up my alley,” Ronan said. “Does he want me to maybe be an ambassador for the Model UN, too? Or head up the school spirit committee?”

“I’m surprised you even know we have a school spirit committee,” Gansey said.

“Oh God, we actually do? That was a joke.”

“The point is,” Gansey said, “that he has an idea for a club that he thinks you’ll like. Look, what’s the worst that’ll happen? You hate the idea, you tell him no, you get pizza out of it.”

The thought of rejecting Cheng to his face was appealing. Ronan also knew, technically, that he would just feel gross if he stayed in his room for the rest of the evening. It wasn’t like he was gonna do his goddamn homework, anyway.

“Fine,” Ronan said. Gansey breathed a sigh of relief as Ronan swung himself off the bed and slid his shoes on.

“Nino’s, you said?” Ronan added as he grabbed his wallet.

“Yeah.”

Ronan smirked.

“What’s that for?” Gansey asked.

“If nothing else, I get to see Sargent eviscerate you. That’ll be entertaining.”

“I doubt she’ll _eviscerate_ me, Ronan. She’ll be civil.”

“Not if the past is any indication.”

Gansey groaned. “She’s got to start being polite at some point. Isn’t she worried about losing her job?”

“Oh yeah, definitely say some shit like that in front of her,” Ronan said. “That’ll really charm her.”

“I’m not interested in charming anyone,” Gansey muttered as they headed out to the car.

 

“You know, you are so lucky to have me, Adam,” Blue said, as she sped down the road heading to Henrietta’s tiny downtown. “Not in, like, a you-should-be-grateful guilt-trippy way. Just reminding you that I really am a gift.”

Adam laughed. “Yeah, a real gift.”

“Is that sarcasm?”

“Course not.”

Adam _was_ grateful for Blue. Not that many people were lucky enough to be good friends with their exes. And Blue was an amazing friend. At a school that was mostly made up of rich assholes, she was one of the few other kids who understood what it was like to not have endless money. And she didn’t take any shit from anyone, including Adam. It was refreshing.

Plus, she got to borrow her mom’s car for work, and would give Adam a ride home from his job when he needed one. Which was also nice.

“You going back to St. Agnes?” Blue asked, when they got to the turn.

“Oh- no,” Adam said. “Actually, I’m meeting someone at Nino’s.”

“Ooh, who are you meeting?”

“Oh, just Henry. Henry Cheng. He’s telling me about some idea he has for a club he wants me to run.”

“Jesus, really?” Blue said. “Why would you want to run one of Henry’s hare-brained schemes?”

Adam shrugged. “If I’m running the club, it counts as a leadership role, and if it’s a new one, it means I was instrumental in forming it. Admissions officers are into that.”

“Good point,” Blue sighed. “I should do something like that. Well, Nino’s it is then, I’ll be there early so I can steal some pizza for you.”

“You really are a gift.”

“What did I tell you?”

She rolled into the Nino’s parking lot a few minutes later and they headed through the back, where Blue stuck her nametag on and dipped into the kitchen to grab two slices of pizza. She handed one to Adam on a paper plate and he scarfed it down, starving after his shift at the auto shop.

Blue watched him carefully as she ate her slice.

“Hey, I told you, you can come over for dinner at my house whenever you want,” she said.

Adam looked up, and she added, “Not charity, I just know you’re looking for any excuse to suck up to the teachers.”

Blue’s house was filled with Aglionby teachers- the English teacher Ms. Poldma, Adam’s favorite, and then the chem teacher, Ms. Johnson, and Blue’s mom, Ms. Sargent, who taught European history. He _did_ like getting a chance to talk to them, and it was true that offers for dinner were less condescending when they came from someone like Blue, but still. He knew it was pity.

“I gotta go meet Henry,” he said. “Thanks for the ride and the pizza.”

He opened the door to the main area to figure out where Henry was, and then he spotted him. He was gesticulating excitedly, sitting across from Gansey, who looked intrigued, and _goddamn Ronan Lynch_.

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me,” Adam said, for the second time that day.

“What is it?” Blue asked.

“ _Lynch_ is here. And he’s doing it again, he’s leaning back in his chair like an asshole. This is a public place. I can’t believe what an entitled asshole he is.”

“Geez,” Blue said. “I mean, yeah, he is, but chill, Adam.”

“I forgot to tell you,” he said, turning around. “I got a new student to tutor today. Guess who it is?”

“Who- no,” Blue said. “You’re kidding me.”

She started cracking up.

“What’s funny about this?”

“Ronan Lynch needs a tutor,” she said, still laughing. “Ohhh, I am gonna give him so much shit for this.”

“There’s nothing wrong with needing- actually, yeah, go ahead and give him shit for this,” Adam said.

“God,” she said. “I’m sorry you’re gonna have to put up with him, but damn. I’m not saying it’s bad to need some help, but Lynch is so fucking arrogant. This is beautiful.”

Despite himself, Adam felt something sting inside him. He remembered the way Ronan’s face had fallen when Ms. Poldma brought up Gansey. He was beginning to wonder what was actually going on here. He didn’t want to be a dick to Ronan just for the sake of being a dick.

“He’s with Henry,” Adam said finally. “Time to go suffer.”

“Good luck,” Blue said.

When Adam approached the table, Ronan’s eyebrows raised.

“What are you doing here?” he said loudly.

Adam glared at him. OK, he was going to be a dick to Ronan.

“Adam!” Henry said, spreading his arms in greeting. “Just in time, I was telling Ro-ro here about-”

“I told you, if you call me Ro-ro again I will fucking end you,” Ronan said through gritted teeth.

“I was telling Captain Boring over here about my new idea,” Henry said. “Sit down.”

Adam sat down next to Henry. Ronan folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. Adam clenched his fists.

“So Henry,” Gansey said, “why don’t you, uh, bring Adam up to speed?”

“Sure,” Henry said, flashing Gansey a grin. “So, Lynch here has put in what amounts to 20 hours of volunteer work at the Henrietta community garden-”

“Only ‘cause Gansey fucking made me-”

“And I have it on good word that you’ve done some extra credit work for your botany class with Mr. Waters.”

“How many people are you fucking spying on, Cheng?” Ronan asked.

“I have my connections,” Henry said. “The point is, I want one of you, or ideally both of you, or maybe if you can recommend anyone else, to run Aglionby’s brand new gardening club.”

“No,” Ronan said, while Adam said, “What would that involve?”

“Lynch, you’re killing me here,” Henry said. “And Parrish, don’t worry about this interrupting your busy schedule too much. Maybe a meeting every couple weeks after school, some events, teaching the student population about gardening opportunities. Maybe do a little plant-your-own-flower party, I don’t know. The _real_ point is that you’re starting something exciting!”

“Eh, I don’t know about that,” Adam said. “It sounds all right but to be honest, if I’ll do it, I’ll do it to put it on my college apps.”

Henry’s smile quirked.

“Well, I’d hoped for a little more enthusiasm, but it’s a start! What about you, goth king?”

“Can you not give me a cutesy nickname?” Ronan said. “And I just said no.”

“Why not?”

“Cause it’s dumb. I don’t want to talk to a bunch of shitty entitled assholes about gardening. They have no respect for it.”

Adam rolled his eyes, and Ronan said, “Got a comment, Parrish?”

“You’re one to talk about shitty entitled assholes,” Adam said, leaning forward onto the table. Ronan’s eyes narrowed.

“Let’s be civil,” Gansey said, but Adam ignored him and continued.

“Henry’s handing you an opportunity for a leadership role on a silver platter, and you turn it down because you don’t feel like it. You’re too busy fucking around in parking lots, getting drunk and blowing shit up-”

“Fuck you,” Ronan snapped.

He’d finally leaned forward in his chair, and it hit the ground.

Adam felt like he’d been hit with icy water- something had suddenly gone wrong. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to rich boys throwing fits when he pointed out how privileged they were, but something felt different this time.

“I’m leaving,” Ronan said, sitting up. “Cheng, the answer’s still fucking no, don’t ask me again.”

He stormed out.

The three left over looked at each other. Gansey was the first to speak. He looked tired.

“Adam, I know you didn’t mean to hurt him-”

“No, I did,” Adam said. He was surprised to find that he sounded tired, too. “I was being a dick.”

“Well, regardless, he wouldn’t have reacted that way- only- well, he’s trying to recover. I don’t know if I should tell you all this-”

“Oh,” Adam said.

He knew enough about alcoholism to know what that implied.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Well, maybe I should say that to him.”

“Don’t,” Gansey said quickly. “That is a bad idea. He doesn’t like apologies. Not obvious ones, anyway. Just be wary of it in the future.”

“Yeah, I definitely will.”

“At least you barely see each other,” Henry chimed in.

Adam laughed emptily.

“Oh?” Henry said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, no,” Gansey said. “You’re his student tutor, aren’t you.”

Adam nodded.

Henry laughed. “I can’t wait to see that. Should be entertaining, if nothing else.”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “Should be entertaining.”


	2. biology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow can you believe i'm back out of my grave. schoolwork has really been a wild ride this semester but i needed to finish this chapter already, here it is!
> 
> also: sorry about all the science that will take place in this chapter. i half-remember AP Bio from four years ago so i swear to god none of you science nerds better get mad at me for any inaccuracies.... (just kidding i appreciate all comments haha) .... but yeah, i try to weave it into the plot

Ronan had spent the past two days trying to figure out the best way to annoy Adam when they met for tutoring. He figured that this was a very valuable use of his time because it made him feel fulfilled and gave him a sense of purpose, and wasn’t that what his therapist was always saying was important?

Two days wasn’t really enough time to craft something properly infuriating to do, so he decided to just wing it. He started by showing up early, since it wasn’t like he was sleeping anyway. It was genius: Adam was probably expecting him to be late. And then here he was, earlier than the tutor.

Unfortunately, the school wasn’t open when he got there a little before 6 am, except for the janitor, who caught him trying to pick the front lock and kicked him out. So he drove around for a bit, alone with his thoughts.

OK. Maybe this had been a bad idea. 




In the early morning, the sun wasn’t even up yet, just a glow behind the blue. The moon was not yet down. Ronan felt his eyes burn a little. He was supposed to be asleep. Gansey had managed to pass out sometime around 4 am, leaving Ronan with the quiet of Monmouth. Ronan didn’t want nightmares.

_His father’s body- blood on cement-_

He’d gulped down a Red Bull and sat in the driveway of Monmouth, lighting stuff on fire to see how it burned, and distracting himself by brainstorming ways to irritate Adam. People didn’t do that, they just slept, but Ronan was no longer friends with his dreams.

He pulled into the Starbucks parking lot. Starbucks, thank fuck, was open.

Wait. An idea. Parrish was the type to drink weird fucking coffee, right? Cause he was an overachiever nerd. Ronan didn’t know much about fancy coffee- he usually just took it black- but he had time, he could learn about different syrups and machiattos or whatever the hell, and bring the most obnoxious fucking drink with him. It would be a whole thing. He could do a full-on Parrish impression. It would be hilarious.

Feeling incrementally better, Ronan climbed out of his BMW and sauntered into the Starbucks, hands threaded into his pockets, and was smiling until he heard a familiar voice say, “Oh, Jesus Christ,” from behind the counter.

Ronan closed his eyes. This would be just his luck.

“Parrish,” he said, when he opened his eyes, and walked up to the counter. “Didn’t know you worked at Starbucks. I thought you worked at that mechanic place.”

Adam flashed a sarcastic smile.

“Shockingly,” he replied, “I have more than one job. Because I don’t have a trust fund paying for all my expenses.”

Ronan wasn’t the type of kid who liked being a dick about people with less money, definitely not, but it wasn’t like he’d meant to be a dick about it. Fucking honestly.

Or maybe he should have been more thoughtful. Maybe he should have realized that Adam wasn’t as privileged as he was. Adam was shaking a little, with his own cup of coffee sitting haphazardly on the counter. There were dark bags under his slightly red eyes, and he looked like he’d gotten less sleep than Ronan, but not by choice.

“Are you going to glare at me for an hour, or did you come here to get something?” Adam said.

Ronan snapped out of his thoughts, and stared up at the Starbucks menu. He’d never actually been there before.

“Uhhh,” he said. “Uh, fuck. I dunno.”

“Typical,” Adam muttered.

“What do you usually get?” Ronan asked.

Adam rolled his eyes. It was a typical move from him, which was kind of funny, to be honest.

“I just make myself a latte, usually,” he said. “Sometimes I get pumpkin spice.”

Ronan nearly choked.

“Pumpkin fucking spice?” he burst out, catching the attention of the other bored barista who was cleaning the tables. “What the fuck, Parrish, are you gonna tell me you fucking wear Uggs or listen to Taylor Swift or some shit?”

“Did you just come here to mock my taste in coffee?” Adam said, leaning his elbow against the glass bakery container. He looked utterly exhausted and to be honest, Ronan was also utterly exhausted, but for very different reasons.

It was kind of fun to annoy Parrish like this, but he felt weirdly bad about it, which was a strange feeling. He did not feel bad about annoying people, not even Gansey, and he owed Gansey a lot, but he still annoyed him without feeling guilty about it.

“Fine,” Ronan said. “I’m ordering a pumpkin spice latte. Maybe it’ll make me smart.” He tapped his shaved head sarcastically and looked at Adam, who sighed irritatedly.

“What size?” Adam asked.

“Uh, I dunno, large?”

Adam pointed at the menu. Ronan looked it over- apparently Starbucks sizes did not include “large.” Corporate bullshit.

“Grande, I guess,” he said. “Can’t imagine the board meeting where they came up with these bullshit names for sizes.”

Adam’s lips quirked a little, like he thought it was funny, but then he pulled his face back into a glare and said, “Great. That’ll be $4.95.”

Ronan swiped his credit card, which he saw Adam eyeing with disdain, and then leaned against the bakery counter to wait for Adam’s coworker to make his order.

No one else was in the store, so Ronan said, “So, Parrish, got any plans for tutoring me in study hall today?”

“Yeah, and you’ll find out when you show up,” Adam said.

“Oh, it’s a surprise? Can’t wait.”

“It’s the same tutoring program I use with everyone. Although most of my students actually cooperate.”

“How do you know I won’t cooperate?”

Adam gave him a look.

“OK, fair,” Ronan said.

“Your coffee,” said the girl at the other counter. Ronan glanced up- she looked like she’d been waiting. He nodded and headed over to grab it.

“See you in school, Parrish,” he said, and waltzed out of the Starbucks.

 

Normally, tutoring came pretty easily to Adam. Sometimes there were students who had issues, learning disabilities or attention disorders or something like that, and at first students like that had pissed him off. He remembered when he first met Noah, when he’d had to tutor him for pre-calc the previous year, and he ended a tutoring session burning with frustration because he didn’t think Noah took the work seriously. Why else would he constantly be staring off into outer space, intentionally not listening and not getting incredibly simple concepts?

Then he’d talked it over with Ms. Poldma, and she’d changed his mind.

“Everyone has different lenses with which they view the world,” she said, while preparing a pot of tea. “They come with their own problems and benefits. I, for example, see a lot through emotions. It helps me understand the world a certain way, makes me empathetic, but at the same time, makes it very difficult for me to engage in work that requires less emotions. Like math, for example.”

Adam had smiled- Ms. Poldma was notoriously bad at math.

“And it makes me angry sometimes,” she continued, “when I see someone who is not as empathetic as I am- it makes me think they’re cruel. But they aren’t. Their brains work a different way. Noah’s brain is not inherently geared to focus, but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn a way to be able to study math just as well as you do. It just requires a different angle.”

She poured Adam a cup of tea and added two sugars, then said, “Do you get what I mean?”

As usual, hearing her perspective had changed Adam’s mind, and he’d approached tutoring Noah in a different way- more like a puzzle than a frustrating person who refused to listen. And the next month, when Blue had come in raging that chemistry was a cursed subject, he’d figured out how to appeal to her interest in the workings of stars and trees to make her care about chemical equations. It was strangely rewarding, in a way that Adam’s other extracurriculars weren’t.

Adam knew, as he locked his bike into the bike rack outside Aglionby, that Ronan was just like any other student in this regard- his brain just saw the world in a unique way, and there was a way to get to him and make him learn.

But in some cases in life, Adam was determined to be stubborn. There were some people he just could not stand. Even if they had sympathetic life stories. Something about Ronan just made him want to pick a fight.

Damn it, he wasn’t like this, he wasn’t somebody who just picked fights. But _damn it_ , Ronan Lynch was such an irritating asshole.

Besides- the worst part of it was that Ronan didn’t actually have trouble learning. He just refused to do it. He couldn’t tell why Gansey or who-the-fuck-ever was making him get a tutor, anyway. Someone who was just being an asshole was going to continue to be an asshole.

Adam dropped by the main office to sign in for attendance, and then headed down to the room on the side of the guidance office where tutoring took place. It was one of his favorite rooms at Aglionby, cozy and filled with textbooks, and now he was dreading going in.

At least he’d have some time alone before Lynch arrived, probably late.

Or so he thought. When he walked in, Ronan was sitting with his feet up on the table, his chair leaned back until it hit the wall, with a pair of glasses he’d gotten from God-knows-where way down on the end of his nose and his Starbucks cup in his hand.

“Oh, hello, Parrish,” he said, glancing up. “I see th-”

“Get your feet off the table,” Adam said.

“I see that you’re on time, instead of early,” Ronan continued, not taking his feet off the table. “Not very professional.”

“Are those glasses prescription?” Adam asked, sitting at the seat across from Ronan and depositing his backpack on the empty chair next to him. “I didn’t realize you needed glasses. Are they reading glasses?”

Ronan let out a long sigh and took off his glasses.

“They’re Gansey’s,” he said, taking his feet off the table. “He has a bunch of extra pairs ‘cause he’s a fucking nerd and is worried he’ll break his, I don’t know. I stole some because you know, gotta be smart and shit.”

“You’re not here to be smart, you’re here to learn how to study,” Adam said. “Get out your AP Bio binder, we’re starting with that.”

“My what?”

“Your AP Biology binder.” Christ, he was insufferable.

Ronan made an irritated noise. “I don’t have a _binder_.”

“Fine, your notebook. Whatever you use for AP Bio.”

Ronan just gave him a blank look.

“Where you take notes?” Adam said.

“I don’t take notes, fuck that shit,” Ronan said.

Adam had to close his eyes. _Not everyone takes notes in class, relax._

“OK, well, if you want to bring up your grades, you should start taking notes,” Adam said. “I’ll teach you some easy ways to take effective notes-”

“I don’t want to take fucking notes,” Ronan said. He was folding a piece of paper into a fortuneteller.

“Really? Do you want to bring your grades up?”

“I mean, not really.”

“OK, let me put it this way. Do you want to get Gansey off your case about bringing your grades up?”

As soon as he’d said it, Adam knew he’d struck something that worked. Ronan crumpled up the paper he was messing with and sat up.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll… take notes. So what, should I get a notebook or some shit?”

“Yeah, that would help,” Adam said. “We have some free supplies in the closet over there, you can grab a composition notebook from there.”

“I can just buy a composition notebook,” Ronan said.

Oh, he was really not making this easy.

“Great, well, why don’t you just get one from the closet for now,” Adam said. “So that you can practice taking notes. I assume you at least have a folder or something to keep all the handouts we get in class.”

Ronan shrugged. “I kind of just throw them into my backpack. Or just like throw them out, I don’t know.”

“How are you in an AP class?” Adam said. “Jesus God. What grade do you even have in this class?”

“Uh, don’t remember,” Ronan said. “Last I checked it was like, a D or F or something.”

Adam took a deep breath.

“They let anyone take an AP class,” Ronan said. “As long as you pay to take the exam at the end of the year. I thought I’d take AP Bio cause why the fuck not. We haven’t even done any dissections, fucking disappointment.”

“Jesus Christ,” Adam muttered. “OK, we have a lot of goddamn catching up to do. First of all, you are going to get a notebook and a folder from the supply closet. I’m going to get our biology textbook. We’re going to go through all the material we’ve done so far this year, and see where you’re having trouble. And you’re going to cooperate, or I’ll tell Gansey you’re being terrible, and then he’s going to be on your case about it. Got it?”

Ronan glared at the ceiling, looking pissed off and slightly red, and muttered, “Got it.”

“Great. Get the supplies.”

Ronan got up to go to the supply closet, and Adam went to grab the textbook their AP Bio class was using from the shelf of textbooks that was kept in this room. He took a moment to count his breaths, like Ms. Poldma had taught him to do when he got hit with anxiety. It wasn’t anxiety so much as just intense frustration this time.

At least it was only late September. They’d only managed to get through some basic biochemistry and were starting their unit on early life. Adam figured he could get Ronan caught up in time. Or, well, he could get some other student who was failing caught up. Ronan, maybe not.

“All right, let’s start with the absolute basics,” Adam said, once Ronan had a notebook, a folder, and a sarcastic smile. “Can you tell me the molecular structure of water?”

Ronan gave him a look. “Come on, I’m not an idiot.”

“Well, you’re acting like one, so prove what you do know.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “OK, H2O, whatever. It’s two hydrogens and one oxygen joined by covalent bonds. I can draw one of those stupid little graphs of it if you want.”

“OK, good,” Adam said. “So you at the very least did the summer assignment. Or, well, I’m assuming you _didn’t_ and you just know that because it’s common knowledge-”

“Nah, I did the fucking summer assignment,” Ronan said.

“You did?” Adam said, looking up from the textbook. That was a surprise, considering how much else he didn’t do.

“Let’s just say I had a lot of shit to distract myself from this summer,” Ronan said, “and the AP goddamn biology assignment was a decent distraction.”

He was staring down at the table with something like shadows over his eyes, and Adam instinctively leaned forward, wondering what the hell Ronan was keeping inside him.

Not for the first time, he had the thought that there was an unbearable depth behind all of that annoying surface.

Ronan’s glare turned up towards Adam, and he said, “So, what, you don’t have any more bullshit science questions?”

“They’re not bullshit,” Adam said, “they’re important.”

Ronan scoffed.

“Important for what, getting into college?” he said. “You don’t give a shit about any of this. You just want to get out of here like the rest of us.”

Adam’s hands turned into a grip on the edge of the table.

“Yeah,” he said. “I do want to get out of here, and yeah, I do need to get better grades than any of you in order to even be allowed to. So yeah, getting into college matters to me, asshole, but that doesn’t mean I don’t give a shit about the material. Biology is actually interesting if you bother to pay attention.”

Ronan looked up at him. He’d slumped down into the chair a bit, but his face had softened a little. It was… different.

“What the fuck is interesting about biology?” Ronan asked, like he was trying to sound harsh, but failing. Adam raised his eyebrows: was Ronan Lynch actually asking a genuine question? Did he actually want to know?

Adam wasn’t sure, but he knew that he was probably being set up to be made fun of.

“It’s the science of life,” he said finally. “Aren’t you curious about it? Where we originated, how our bodies work, how plants work? It’s interesting.”

He didn’t say everything- how knowing the way his blood rushed and the way scars healed made him feel he knew himself more, how he would see a tree and touch its roots with the ache to know how they fed every leaf, how learning what it meant to be alive helped him feel like he could be properly alive someday.

“I guess,” Ronan said, shrugging. “But school ruins it. You go out and take care of a plant and watch it grow, that’s interesting. You sit in school and hear Waters give us these endless goddamn formulas- boring as shit.”

“Do you really think biology is just endless formulas?” Adam asked. “The formulas are just a translation of what happens in reality. What- what do you think H2O is, you just said that to me, do you think water and everything it does is boring because it’s a formula?”

Ronan shrugged. He looked sheepish.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just don’t want to pay attention, OK? I start hearing a teacher talk and it makes my brain turn off. It’s not like- you think I’m some fucking idiot who only cares about fast cars or some shit.”

It was Adam’s turn to feel sheepish, because that _was_ what he thought.

“I- well,” he said.

“Whatever,” Ronan said. “I get it. I _get_ why this shit is interesting to you. But you can sit in class and just pay attention and I just- I don’t see the point. I don’t know why. Probably because everyone is so fucking insufferable.”

“Yeah, I’m not arguing with you there, everyone _is_ insufferable,” Adam said. “But I put up with it because I have to.”

“I guess I don’t have to,” Ronan said. “’Cause I’m just a piece of shit who doesn’t care about anything.” He stared away from Adam.

Adam narrowed his eyes at Ronan. He was saying everything in a sarcastic tone of voice, like he was trying to make a funny point, but it just sounded to Adam like he was saying exactly what he meant.

This wasn’t how Adam had thought this was going to go.

He hadn’t expected to care at all. He’d expected to come in, put up with bullshit from Ronan, and suffer through a couple of tutoring sessions before telling Ms. Poldma it was a lost cause and getting his Thursday morning study-halls back.

Ronan was becoming a puzzle just like everyone else was. More than that, a puzzle Adam wanted to solve.

He had to find an angle.

“You said you care about plants,” Adam said. “Henry said you work at a garden?”

Ronan grunted. “Yeah.”

“Well, biology is about the building blocks of life,” Adam said. “If you start here and you put in the work, you’ll grow to understand everything about your garden. Not just on a surface level, but what actually goes on in the plants. I mean, this isn’t a botany class, but we’re going to be learning about plants, and biochemistry is relevant to plant life, too.”

“I… fucking guess,” Ronan said, still staring pointedly into the distance.

“Look, you want to get your grades up if you want Gansey to shut up about it. And it’s something… something to do as a distraction. And it doesn’t hurt that it’s something interesting. I know that you _can_ put in the effort, Ms. Poldma told me you once changed your grades from a C to an A within a single weekend. Just… actually take notes and do the assignments. And if you have trouble with it, I mean, I can help.”

Ronan was _still_ staring off into the distance. Adam nearly regretted being so open and nice- what if it came back to bite him, offering help to a venomous snake?

Then Ronan crossed his arms and looked at Adam.

“OK, fuckface,” he said. “What do I need to know about biochemistry?”


	3. gardening club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally updating! this is gonna be very slow on updates, I'm sorry, I'm trying to have a life for once haha... Anyway, I hope you like this one! I'd like to reiterate again that I forgot a lot about AP biology and high school and gardening, etc. Also, sorry if you haven't read Pride and Prejudice and you don't understand the argument Ronan and Adam have. I don't think it's necessary to have read it but who knows.

Three weeks of tutoring Ronan, and Adam still thought that he was insane for agreeing to do it. Not only agreeing to do it, but thinking, surprisingly often, that it was a good experience. He’d put up with assholes plenty of times in his life, but never when he was in a position of authority over them.

Plus… Ronan Lynch wasn’t really an asshole. He didn’t have a malicious grain inside of him poisoning the well of his actions. He was just a fucking idiot who clearly didn’t know how to behave properly. Adam could handle that a lot better than someone who wanted to hurt him.

And that was a train of thought he didn’t need to be on right now, so he neatly cut it off and returned his thoughts to reality.

He’d been thinking about the tutoring sessions because he was in AP Lit right now. It was the other subject he was tutoring Ronan in, besides biology. Ronan had a slightly easier time with literature, which had confused Adam at first, but then he’d realized that living with Gansey made it difficult to avoid being well-versed in the classics. Apparently, Gansey had given Ronan a copy of Beowulf for his birthday one year. And in class, now, they were reading Pride and Prejudice, which, to Adam’s delight, was apparently Gansey’s favorite book.

That morning, during their tutoring session, Ronan had said he hadn’t read the assigned chapter the night before, then admitted that the reason was that he’d already read it twice and seen all the movie versions, thanks to Gansey. He had opinions, too- he “fucking couldn’t stand Lydia” and “thought Mrs. Bennett was a fucking bitch.”

“What, so you just hate the women?” Adam had asked. It was a reflex to look out for potential sexism, now, which he’d learned from Blue, but he also thought was just him improving as a person. He was always looking to improve as a person.

“No, dipshit, I just hate those women,” he said. “I like Elizabeth, she’s good. But she judges the shit out of Darcy.”

“Yes, that’s in the title of the book, actually,” Adam said.

“Ha ha,” Ronan said. He crossed his arms. “She didn’t have to hate him just because he’s bad with people. Like, as if he’s bad with people on purpose.”

“Well, it’s part of the social context,” Adam said, grateful to find a way to get Ronan engaged with the text. “No one was just a quirky introvert back then.”

“Ugh, don’t say that,” Ronan said. “Quirky introvert.” He shuddered. “That’s the worst fucking phrase. He’s not even like that, he’s just bad at talking to people.”

“Yeah, but it was a responsibility for him,” Adam said. “It was what rich people in Regency England had to do, and he didn’t do it. I mean, he was straight-up rude. And he judged Elizabeth’s family, essentially, for being poorer than him.”

Ronan glared at him. “When the fuck does he judge them for their money?”

Adam glared right back at Ronan, then grabbed his copy of the book and flipped through to find exact quotes and page numbers. He was not going to let some trust-fund asshole pretend like he could spot classism better than him.

When Adam was done lecturing, Ronan sat back, looking humbled.

“I guess I just,” he started. “I dunno. I always just thought people misunderstood Darcy because he was weird.”

“Both interpretations can be true, you know,” Adam said.

“I mean, look at this shit,” Ronan said, and then he grabbed his own copy of the book and started flipping through it, to find quotes of Darcy talking about his social anxiety.

They kept going like that for the rest of the study hall, arguing with each other about which characters had certain motives or what points the book was trying to make, and angrily flipping through the book to prove their own point.

About halfway through, Adam realized that they were, in fact, doing something productive, and he smiled in spite of himself- he’d used Ronan’s own annoying personality to teach him about literary analysis.

He was thinking about it now, because Ronan had actually been paying attention in class. He could tell- he was getting good at seeing the ways Ronan’s moods manifested. When he ran his hands over his leather bracelets, he was either stressed or focusing hard on something. And when he actually sat up straight, it definitely meant he was taking something seriously.

It didn’t really balance out all the annoying shit Ronan had put Adam through during tutoring, but it was something of an accomplishment to see him pay attention to Ms. Poldma while she led a class discussion about the use of dialogue in the chapters they’d read.

The bell jolted Adam out of his thoughts, and he realized he’d been looking at Ronan for a few minutes now. Shit. That was probably weird. He turned to Gansey, who sat next to him, and said, “Did I miss any important notes just now?”

Gansey glanced over his notes. “Nah. Your notes look wonderful as always.”

Adam rolled his eyes in an attempt to seem modest, then put all his stuff in his messenger bag and headed out the door.

It was the end of the school day, and Fridays were the day Henry had finally scheduled for the Aglionby gardening club meetings. They’d had their first meeting the week before. Blue had shown up, and Gansey as well, and a handful of freshmen looking for activities and seniors looking for resume stuffers. Adam had just taught them some basic things about creating a good environment for the plants, and then Mr. Waters, their supervisor, had helped them plant a few herbs.

They met in the old greenhouse behind the school. Apparently, in the late 50s, there had been a greenhouse movement at Aglionby due to panic about nuclear apocalypse or something, which Adam didn’t fully understand, but he was glad to have the greenhouse there. He’d always liked passing by the strange building and now he got the chance to fix it up.

Dropping off his bag near the door, he switched on the one light- it was a cloudy day out, and even in a glass building he liked a little extra light- and then he walked around and checked on the various potted plants. Mr. Waters had brought some more; he’d been excited about going to the nearby nursery and picking them up.

The greenery was intensely calming. No noise, no expectations, just growing things. Something about earth and leaves made a lot of sense to Adam. How filled with life they were, and how constantly ignored.

A polite knock came at the door, and Adam turned around. It was Mr. Waters, his biology teacher, botany teacher, and probably his favorite teacher after Ms. Poldma. Caleb Waters, who knew everything about flora and fauna, and who was constantly teaching Adam something new about them.

“How are things today, Adam?” he asked, in his usual gentle voice.

“Good,” Adam said, smiling. “Got a lot of homework for the weekend, and some long shifts, but I’m free until 6 tonight, so I have time to get the homework done.”

“Your work ethic amazes me,” Mr. Waters said. He darted out the door and walked back in with a giant bag of something.

“This is enriched soil,” he said. “With extra nutrients and fertilizers- here, let me tell you about it.”

Adam came over and took a seat at one of the stools, and Mr. Waters explained how the soil worked, and why it was better than what they’d been using before.

While he talked, the other students came in, and stood or sat around the greenhouse. Blue was one of the last to come in, settling herself next to Adam, and Henry rushed in at the last minute with a clipboard.

“Hello, hello!” he said enthusiastically. “I was just out gathering signatures for a very important petition- which, by the way, you should all sign, it’s one more part of our green initiative- but more on that later! Adam! Mr. Waters! What exciting gardening adventures do you have in store for us today?”

Adam fell into place, explaining how they’d be out about the Aglionby grounds that day, examining different plants and taking care of various gardening work around the campus. He still felt awkward in a leadership position- he knew it was necessary for his college applications, but it was strange to talk like he was some sort of expert. He didn’t deserve the role and he was constantly terrified someone would catch him out on it. Still, Mr. Waters was a good reassuring presence- he always said that Adam was his best student, and encouraged him when he felt powerless.

Once he was done explaining everything, everyone split into groups to go out around the grounds. Blue went with a couple of freshmen girls, and Henry latched on to some guys from his Vancouver crew, and they all headed out, leaving Adam alone.

“I’ve got some grading to do, if you don’t mind,” Mr. Waters said. “You can go out and watch the others, or catch up on homework if you prefer.”

Adam knew he should have worked on his homework, but he needed a walk. He’d been feeling restless. And he liked the Aglionby grounds. If you detached it from the reality of Henrietta, and from the stuck feeling of high school, it was beautiful, covered in old buildings and surrounded by the deep Shenandoah Valley woods.

He checked up on different groups, advising them to be careful with the plants they were handling. Blue was pretty good- she said she could “hear” the plants and what they needed. Henry’s group was more rowdy, Snapchatting everything they did instead of focusing. Adam wandered further through the grounds, letting himself breathe the mid-autumn air, and then circled back around to the greenhouse, resigning himself to the fact that he ought to get some homework done before his shift later.

Mr. Waters had left, doing his paperwork elsewhere, evidently, but there was someone in the back of the spacious greenhouse, messing around with the plants. Adam wandered over, about to tell them off, when he saw that one, the person was doing a good job watering and weeding the plants that had been neglected, and two, the person was Ronan Lynch.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. He shouldn’t really have been surprised- he knew that Ronan volunteered at the community gardens, and that he loved agriculture. He’d let his guard down a few times during tutoring sessions, when he spoke fondly of how biochemistry related to plants.

What surprised Adam was less the interest in the greenhouse and more the gentle way Ronan handled the plants, lifting the leaves softly before he watered them, reading over the instructions on the seed packets that he’d evidently found in the storage closet, sifting through the soil. He kept finding new sides of this boy and it was like a dream uncovered within a dream every time.

Adam registered that this was an excessively poetic way to think about someone he supposedly felt somewhere between aggressively indifferent and angry towards, and then he let the thought drift away. He knew the best way to handle feelings was to let them simmer in the subconscious. The best way to handle soft feelings that could get hurt, anyway.

“Are you just gonna stand there like a creep, Parrish, or are you gonna yell at me for disrupting your precious gardening club?” Ronan said, without looking up from the marigolds.

“How did you know it was me?” Adam asked.

“There was suddenly a sense of annoying-ass nerd in the air,” Ronan said.

Adam crossed his arms.

“If you want to join the gardening club, you can just say so,” he said.

“Fuck no,” Ronan said. “I’m not joining some bullshit club.”

“That’s the club I’m running, thank you,” Adam said. “And if you’re not joining the club, why are you in the greenhouse?”

“I’m growing weed in here. Wanted to check up on the harvest.”

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Adam said. “Just don’t annoy everyone else when they come back.”

“Oh, I’m planning to be gone long before then,” Ronan said.

He kept taking care of the potted plants in the back, which to be honest Adam hadn’t noticed- he just figured Mr. Waters took care of them. Did Ronan come here regularly to take care of the plants in the back? They’d been there since before Henry had started the gardening club. Actually, now that Adam thought about it, two years ago, when he’d been following Gansey around all the time (god, why was he so embarrassing), and Gansey had insisted on exploring The Mysteries of Aglionby and had broken into the greenhouse, there had been a series of potted plants in the back that were well taken care of.

Was that Ronan’s doing?

Adam was idly doodling on the edge of his biology notes, so he brought himself back into focus. He had work to do.

Ronan picked up his stuff and headed out the door a short while later, and maybe seconds later, everyone else poured back in. Mr. Waters came back from wherever he’d been and closed out the club meeting with an announcement of an upcoming field trip to the local nature reserve, and then everyone left.

Blue and Henry stayed behind, Blue propping herself up on a stool and fishing an Angela Davis book out of her backpack. Henry chattered on about community engagement and how thrilled he was at the prospect of potentially meeting up with the garden club at a high school two towns over. Adam paid half-attention, his mind still on the biology homework and, more attentively, on Ronan Lynch and his potted plants.

“You want to come to the coffee shop with us?” Blue asked, once she and Henry were headed out the door. “You can get some homework done before your shift tonight.”

“You remembered that I have work tonight?” Adam said.

“Yeah, idiot, you’re my best friend. So do you wanna come along?”

“Sure,” Adam said. “It’s not too far from the warehouse, anyway.”

“You work at a warehouse?” Henry asked. “I thought you worked at Starbucks.”

“He works three jobs, capitalist scum,” Blue said.

“You guys go on ahead,” Adam said. “I need to, uh, finish up here.”

“OK, we’ll wait for you at my car,” Blue said. Blue was always driving Adam around, due to his not having a car, and she drove Henry around too, due to Henry being too afraid to drive his fancy car. Adam wasn’t best friends with Henry, but it was sometimes fun to hang out with someone who was so enthusiastic about life.

Blue and Henry headed out to the senior parking lot, and Adam turned around to Mr. Waters, who was putting away some of the garden tools.

“Uh, Mr. Waters,” he said. “I was wondering about something.”

“Mm?” Mr. Waters said, looking up.

“Those plants in the back. Did you put them there? Who takes care of them?”

Mr. Waters smiled. “Oh, you saw Ronan come in here.”

Adam turned red, inexplicably, and then said, “Yeah. What’s that about?”

“He’ll probably hate me for telling you,” Mr. Waters said. “He gets a lot of comfort from taking care of plants and animals. Believe it or not, he’s very interested in agriculture.”

“Yeah, I know,” Adam said.

“Oh?” Mr. Waters said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, well, he told me. During tutoring. You know, because of biochemistry.”

Mr. Waters nodded. “He seems to think it’ll reduce his street cred or something. That’s why he comes here, usually when he should be in class. I know I shouldn’t encourage a student skipping class, but Ronan is a special case. We are family friends, after all.”

“Wait, _what?_ ” This was completely news to Adam.

“We’re old family friends,” Mr. Waters said. “I guess he didn’t tell you that. I knew his dad, Niall. He’s the one who ran the Lynch family barns, the one who made them so spectacular and strange.”

“The Lynch family barns?” Adam asked. What the hell kind of secrets did Ronan have?

“Yes, up in Singers Falls. They’re beautiful, but I’m afraid Niall didn’t often respect the wooded areas that he tore down to make his barns. He was a charismatic man, probably a genius, but it caused a lot of problems when it came to my woodlands.”

“Hold on,” Adam said. He was trying to be polite and not just seem like he wanted gossip, but he was fascinated. “So, Ronan’s dad cut down those woods that you used to work in?”

He’d heard stories from Mr. Waters about the job he’d had before becoming a biology teacher. He could never understand why someone would give up being a caretaker of a forest to work in a high school, but Mr. Waters had always said he wanted to teach others. But maybe there was a darker explanation. Maybe he’d been forced out.

“Please don’t blame Ronan for that,” Mr. Waters said. “He was a kid. He worshipped his father, and he didn’t know the half of what his father was doing. And he’s still dealing with the grief of losing him.”

“I wasn’t going to blame Ronan,” Adam said, although he had been heavily considering asking Ronan pointed questions about the whole thing. “But that’s… messed up.”

“Yeah,” Mr. Waters said, sighing. “It’s complicated, though. He was a good friend to me in other ways, and I respected him. And I’ve been friends with his family since he and his wife moved into the Barns a few decades back. Things haven’t been the same since Niall died, to be honest, and so I don’t mind if Ronan wants to cut class and seek solace in the greenhouse. He doesn’t have a lot of healthy outlets for his grief.”

Adam thought back to when Gansey had brought up Ronan’s issues with alcohol. He felt… He felt like there were so many things he didn’t know.

“It’d probably be best if I didn’t bring up this stuff to Ronan,” Adam said.

“You’re right about that,” Mr. Waters said. “He hates talking about his emotions.”

Adam laughed. “Yeah, I can sense that. OK, well… I don’t want to keep Blue and Henry waiting forever. Thanks for explaining all of this, it….”

He didn’t know why he was so grateful to know more about Ronan. What was he going to tell Mr. Waters, _Ronan is a puzzle that I keep wanting to solve?_ Or worse, _I keep having weird thoughts about him that I don’t fully understand but I want to know more about him?_

Mr. Waters seemed to understand instinctively. “No problem. Good luck with the biology homework this weekend, it’s quite a lot of work.”

“I can handle it,” Adam said confidently. “See you in class on Monday.”

He headed out to the parking lot, where Blue and Henry were waiting, stopping along the way to grab his bicycle from the bike rack.

“He arrives at last!” Henry said. “I called shotgun already, Parrish.”

Adam rolled his eyes and heaved his bike into the trunk. Blue turned on the radio to some alternative music station and argued about feminism with Henry all the way to their favorite coffee shop. It was cheap, and it was down the block from the warehouse where Adam worked, so it was probably Adam’s favorite as well, though to be honest he usually relied on the coffee he got for free at his job at Starbucks. It wasn’t as good as the fresh-ground stuff they served here, though.

He settled in with his books. Blue also kind of did her homework- she was also busy working over the weekend- but she kept getting distracted by Henry, who was reading bad jokes from Instagram off his phone.

She sighed at one point and pushed her elbows onto the table, attempting to stick her legs on Adam’s chair. She was too short, and Adam scooted his chair out of the way just in case.

“Adam, you’re being cruel,” she whined. “I want to have a footrest.”

“I want to be able to do my homework,” he said. “Without distractions.”

He’d gotten a coffee because he figured it’d help him stay up through the end of his shift at midnight. His dinner was somewhere in his backpack, a peanut butter sandwich and a bag of chips. The coffee wasn’t doing a great job of filling his stomach, but he had to stick it out until dinnertime, so he could make it through his shift without passing out from hunger or something.

“If you wanted a distraction-free environment, you should not have come with us,” Henry said.

“Noted,” Adam said. He could feel his mood shifting to irritated-for-no-reason, and he didn’t want to unleash his angry, unhealthy self on the two of them.

Henry’s phone went off with the sound of one of the Korean girl groups he was obsessed with, and he said, “Ooh- it’s Cheng Two. We’re planning a Student Council event. Hang on,” and dashed out the door.

“Hey,” Blue said, quieter, once Henry was outside. She took Adam’s hands in her own, and Adam looked up from his homework. “Adam. You need to take a break or something?”

“No, God, I’m not a child.” This was why he needed to not have friends. He snapped at them. He sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s fine,” Blue said. “I know you’re just in a bad mood, you’re not being malicious. But if you’re feeling on edge, you can take a second to relax. Or borrow a snack from me, I have some weird fruit leather Persephone made. Sorry, I mean Ms. Poldma.”

Adam curled closer in on himself.

“Adam, it’s not charity, it’s literally me offering to share this fruit leather. Persephone will be thrilled you tried some.”

He stared down at his hands.

“Yeah, I am hungry, actually,” he said. “Of course I want something more to eat than my shitty dinner in two hours, but I can’t… I can’t. I can’t make you give me food.”

“I’m the one who offered, Adam.”

“But it’s as if I made you. I don’t want people doing me favors.”

“Do you think this is a favor?” she asked. “A kindness? This is me looking out for you. This is friends helping each other. The world isn’t made on being earned or bought, you know.”

“I know,” Adam said. “You told me about this during one of your rants about Marxism.”

“Excuse me, they were not rants, they were educational speeches, and you’re the one who went and read Marx afterwards.”

Adam shrugged. “Whatever. I’m irrational. I- I know it applies to other people, that they can get things from their friends- and it isn’t just charity- I just don’t think it applies to me.” He didn’t know why and he didn’t want to admit that he didn’t know. He really, really didn’t like not knowing a thing without figuring it out, but this was something that hurt to figure out.

“Well, why don’t you do a favor to me, then,” Blue said. “Take this fruit leather off my hands. It’s atrocious. I can’t tell Persephone, her heart will be broken. And take the rest of this scone,” she said, pushing the scone she’d bought across the table. “I don’t like raisins and it’s full of raisins. It’ll be a waste of money if you don’t eat it.”

“You know I know that you’re lying,” Adam said.

“Shockingly,” Blue said. She smiled. “But it’s true that I hate raisins.”

“Fine, I’ll try Persephone’s fruit leather,” he said, “and I’ll eat your damn scone.”

It was easier with Blue.

She dug a Ziploc bag of odd-looking dried fruit strips out of her backpack, and then she said, “How’s tutoring going with Lynch, by the way? Still horrible?”

“Oh,” he said, picking up the scone and trying not to devour it in one go. “Well. It’s… interesting.”

Blue laughed. “You’re too nice.”

“No, it really is interesting,” he said. “He’s weirdly good at school, actually, he just pretends not to care.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Blue said. “He’s such a typical rich asshole.”

“I could say the same about Henry,” Adam said. “If I didn’t know him that well.”

“Henry’s nice, there’s a difference,” Blue said.

“I’m just saying. There’s more to Ronan than you think.”

“Why are you defending him?” Blue asked. “I thought you hated him.”

Adam sank down a bit in his chair, feeling incredibly awkward.

“Yeah, I thought so too,” he said. “But I don’t know. I think he’s been through a lot. And he’s not really mean. He’s just kind of an idiot.”

“Well, that’s fair,” Blue said. “I still want to hate him, though.”

“Go ahead,” Adam said. “I still think he’s an asshole. I mean, he doesn’t even have a binder or notebook for any of his classes, even though I told him to get one. Besides, you can hate whoever you want, anyway. I think Gansey’s cool and I don’t mind you hating him.”

“Yeah!” Blue said, her eyes lighting up. “Gansey’s the fucking worst!”

She started in on how she couldn’t stand Gansey, while Adam’s gaze led out the window to where Henry was talking on the phone, gesturing wildly, and holding what appeared to be a small silver pen emitting smoke.

“What the hell is Henry doing?” he asked.

Blue looked around, and then groaned.

“He is _vaping_ ,” she said. “I told him I would slap him if he did that again, it’s the dumbest thing possible. It’s like smoking but with a dumb little fake cigarette that just emits vapor.”

“That seems like a very Henry thing to do,” Adam said.

Blue smiled. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

 

The door of the waiting room swung open, and Ronan’s therapist, Gwen, peered in. Her hair was horrifying, as usual.

“Come on in,” she said, and Ronan put down the stress ball he’d been messing with and headed down the hallway to her office.

He had to admit, as far as condescending adults giving him advice went, Gwen wasn’t terrible. She wasn’t what he’d expected from a therapist, either. Her office was filled with strange art of women in different situations and an exorbitant amount of plastic flowers. And she was weird. He’d hated her at first, when she was making him relive his trauma for her, but now he felt better going to therapy. It had been like throwing up when you were sick- shitty to go through, but something you had to go through.

He sat himself in the metal folding chair that she’d covered in cushions, and ran his hands through his leather bracelets while she closed the door and plugged in the device that kept the room soundproof.

“So,” she said. “Ronan. How have things been?”

“I hate answering that,” he said. Fucking general questions about bullshit.

“OK, fine,” she said. “Let’s go for a question you can answer better. How have you been sleeping?”

“I hate sleeping,” he said. “And don’t suggest medication again. I don’t want to take any fucking pills.”

“You should stop assuming what I’m going to say,” Gwen said. “All right, so you’re still not sleeping.”

“Why don’t you stop assuming what _I’m_ gonna say,” he said. “I sleep. A little. Sometimes I take naps, I just don’t like sleeping at night.”

“Because of the nightmares.”

“Yeah, no shit because of the nightmares. I don’t want to go to sleep and fucking see my dad’s head bashed in, or fucking… fucking… that piece of shit Kavinsky again, or one of those night horror monster things. How the fuck is that supposed to help me get better? I do just fine without sleep, Red Bull exists.”

“You know that’s not a healthy way to live, though.”

“Well, welcome to my fucking life.” He sat back and crossed his arms.

“Let’s not talk about sleep,” Gwen said. “What about your tutoring sessions with Adam? You said you liked those.”

“No, I said they were fine.” Jesus, Ronan regretted ever expressing a positive emotion in therapy.

“Which is high praise coming from you. How are they going?”

“Fine, like I said.”

He didn’t want to talk about that.

“What is it like, trying to interact with someone who isn’t Gansey or Matthew? I know you have trouble with social interaction, but you said it wasn’t difficult to talk with Adam. Is that still true?”

“Now I know you’re just making shit up,” he said. “I said it wasn’t _too_ difficult to talk with him. He’s still an insufferable shit who hates me for doing better than him in Latin.”

“And why do you think that?”

“Uh, cause he wants to be the best in everything, and can’t stand people who get in the way.”

“Do you really think that’s true? He sounded like a nice person to me.”

God, why did she drag everything out like this? “Of course it’s not fucking true, of course he’s a nice fucking person,” he said. “Why does it matter?”

“Because he’s someone you’re interacting with. And I want to know what that’s like for you.”

“This is dumb.”

“Ronan, you don’t have to be ashamed to talk about your emotions.”

That struck a nerve.

“What?” he exclaimed. “What emotions? What does this have to do with emotions?”

Adam Parrish was not _emotions_. Not how he made Ronan think twice about everything they learned in school, not how he argued and made Ronan feel intense without being angry for once, not how he had so much to him that Ronan didn’t understand. Not how he laughed, with his hand rising up to his mouth and his cheeks getting red, either. God. This was why he didn’t want to talk about this.

“Interacting with people has everything to do with emotions, especially for you,” Gwen said. “I know it’s hard to talk about. We don’t have to talk about interacting with Adam, if you want. We can talk about interacting with other students or teachers, or someone else.”

“No, it’s fine,” Ronan said. That thought of Adam laughing had made him furious and calm at the same time. He was remembering that therapy was supposed to actually do something, not just piss him off. “I mean, it’s not so bad interacting with him. We argue about a lot of stuff but it’s not so bad.”

“So what do you think that means?”

“I don’t know!” Ronan said. “What are you trying to say?”

Gwen sighed. “Maybe it means that interacting in people with general isn’t bad. That people aren’t destined to be terrible to you.”

“Oh,” Ronan said. He’d been sure she was trying to imply something else. “I mean, maybe. I know, I know, I’m supposed to be fucking talking to people and loving life and shit.”

“No, Ronan, you can take your time.”

“But what if it never happens? What if I never become normal?”

“The goal isn’t to be normal. The goal is to be happy with yourself and be stable.”

“Well, I’m not happy and stable now,” he muttered.

“Which is why we’re working on these exercises. Did you do the homework I assigned you last week?”

“Yeah,” Ronan grumbled. Gansey had made him do it. He pulled a crumpled piece of notebook paper out of his pocket. He had, in fact, bought a notebook and started taking notes, but he intentionally didn’t tell Adam so that he could be more annoying. Probably that was something he wasn’t supposed to do in Good Human Interaction. “Here, a list of things I like about myself. I’m good with plants, I’m good with animals, I’m funny, I’m smart, I’m good at driving, and I look great. Is that good enough?”

“It’s not about being good enough, Ronan. It’s about internalizing those ideas. I’m glad you came up with so many things. Why are you afraid to show all those good things to the world?”

“Because the world ruins good things,” he said, before he could stop himself.

Gwen looked over at one of the pieces on her wall, the one with a woman floating inside a tree, and she said, “Yes, that’s true. But it’s not the whole truth. The world is very complicated. It can ruin good things and it can heal good things. You’ve sought out behavior that is unhealthy, in the past. Maybe it would help to seek out behavior that is healing, instead.”

“Yeah, like what?” Ronan asked. “Fucking yoga and volunteering?”

“No, like spending time with people you trust, or even spending more time with people you feel OK around, like your friend Noah. Finding ways to share the parts of your life that you enjoy. You mentioned the gardening club that Gansey wanted you to join. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to join it.”

“Fucking Christ,” Ronan said. “Do I have to?”

“You don’t have to do anything, but I think it would be a good start. It might show you that sometimes the things you like can work out OK. Would you be willing to try it?”

Ronan put on his most menacing glare before saying, “Fine. Just one meeting.”

“Good. Gansey will be there, and you said Adam would be there too. Maybe you can try making friends with him there.”

“Don’t push it.”

“It’s not an order, Ronan, it’s just a suggestion.”

“I know,” Ronan said. “I hate suggestions.”

But if he was being honest, something in him didn’t hate this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is therapist!Gwenllian too much? Obviously in this AU, she was born in this century and isn't completely psychotic, but I dropped a few hints that she's still been through a lot herself and became a therapist as a result. Mostly I gave her that role because she gives advice in the books.  
> Also, if it wasn't obvious, Mr. Waters is Cabeswater in human form.   
> Let me know what you think! I hope you liked this chapter!


	4. the fight

“Parrish, you’re not gonna believe this,” Ronan said, as he rolled in exactly five minutes late and threw himself down onto the couch in the study space (the official name for the little room where Adam held tutoring sessions). Ronan liked to sit on the couch there, and although Adam thought it was incredibly unprofessional, it seemed to help him work and it didn’t actually do any harm, so he put up with it.

Besides, he was probably doing it specifically to annoy Adam, and if Adam didn’t act annoyed, he was really the one winning. Probably. Lynch and his fucking mind games.

“What exactly am I not gonna believe?” Adam said, glancing up from the school-issued laptop he was using. The Common App website was open, and if Ronan was going to be late, Adam was going to get application work done.

“My bitch-ass guidance counselor is making me do a bitch-ass Common App,” he said.

“Who’s your guidance counselor?” Adam asked. “And why would I not believe that, it’s about time for you to start your Common App if you haven’t started it already.”

It was mind-boggling to Adam that anyone would put off starting the Common App until late October, but he was getting used to the fact that Ronan had horrifyingly lazy habits. Besides, with a little hard work it was perfectly possible to complete a good common application and a decent amount of specific ones in time for most schools’ deadlines. Adam, of course, was applying to his top choice early decision, but he didn’t think Ronan had the words “early decision” in his vocabulary.

“Ugh, not you too,” Ronan said. He kicked his legs up onto the couch, clearly sulking, and added, “Greenmantle’s my guidance counselor, and I might fucking strangle her.”

“Oh, makes sense,” Adam said, nodding. Ms. Greenmantle was completely insufferable but thought she was charming and eccentric, which made her even more insufferable. He could see how someone who was already averse to being responsible would hate it even more when putting up with her. “You should request to be transferred to a new guidance counselor. I’m with Mr. Gray and he’s fine.”

“Gray’s a piece of shit,” Ronan said. “Besides, I don’t give a shit, I’m not applying to college.”

“Very funny,” Adam said. “Stop trying to annoy me. We’re gonna start the tutoring session in a sec, I just have to finish this.”

“I’m not messing with you,” Ronan said. “I’m not applying.”

“Sure,” Adam said. “And Gansey and your brother are fine with that?”

“Declan’s an ass, but he can’t do anything about it, I’m gonna turn 18 in a week. And Gansey doesn’t really know.”

Adam looked up, closing the laptop lid and scrutinizing Ronan’s expression. He _was_ being serious.

“You’re not applying _anywhere_?” he asked. “Not even community college?”

“You really can’t even imagine that, can you?” Ronan said. He sat up and leaned forward on his elbows. “You think everyone wants to be a little Ivy League fucker like you.”

Adam took a deep breath. He was not going to let Ronan get to him.

“I didn’t say you had to go to an Ivy League,” he said. “But you’re not going to any college? You could get in, you know.”

“Yeah, I _could_ , but I don’t _want_ to,” Ronan said.

“You don’t want to,” Adam said. “You mean, you don’t want to go _now_ and you don’t want to do the work of applying, right?”

Ronan’s mouth twisted into a sneer.

“No,” he said. “I don’t fucking want to go to college, ever. It’s a waste of time. Bunch of assholes sitting around congratulating themselves on nothing.”

Adam’s blood boiled.

“Right, of course,” he said. “I forgot that the thing I’ve been working my whole life to get into is just a _waste of time_ , and I’m just an asshole congratulating myself for doing nothing.”

“You know what? Yeah,” Ronan said, standing up. “Yeah. College is a fucking sham. Colleges are goddamn corporations, sucking the life and money out of you, and you fell hook, line, and fucking sinker for their bullshit.”

Adam also stood up.

“You think you’re so edgy,” he said. “It’s so easy for you to just skip out on whatever goddamn fucking societal institutions you want, you don’t have to prove _shit_. Just wave your goddamn money around-”

“This shit again!” Ronan spat out, looking furious. “When you don’t have a real argument, you just remind me that I have money and you don’t.”

Adam slammed his chair against the desk, rattling the laptop and book he had out. He shoved the book and laptop into his backpack.

“I’m not tutoring you anymore,” he said. “Tell Gansey he can find someone else to put up with your shit.”

“Fine!” Ronan shouted, as Adam slammed the door behind him.

The secretary in the main guidance office looked up at him with worry and he gave her an awkward grimace.

“Sorry about the noise, ma’am,” he said.

“Just be careful with those doors, dear,” she said, and turned back to her filing cabinet.

Ronan emerged a second later, significantly slamming the door behind him and storming out past Adam. This time, the secretary looked up in horror and Ms. Greenmantle emerged from her office.

“Is that Ronan Lynch?” she asked, then added in a stage whisper to the secretary, “He’s got daddy issues that he’s working out.”

Adam suppressed a cringe, then said, as politely as he could muster, “I’m heading out to study hall, is that OK?”

“Go ahead,” the secretary said, and Adam walked out the door.

His heart was still beating incredibly fast, but having to interact with authority figures had made his anger stop all up against his head in a rush, like an ice cream headache. He was still so, so angry. And _frustrated_. He hadn’t wanted to fight, but his anger had just swarmed out of him like a tidal wave. He wanted to stuff it all in like a scarf into a box, but you couldn’t stuff the ocean in a box.

That was him, wasn’t it? The boy who got angry when people removed the bottom from his house of cards. Wasn’t Ronan right after all? He was nothing. Nothing but a cobbling together of things to stuff his application with.

No, Ronan was _wrong_ and Adam was _fucking angry_ and he was this close to kicking a locker, wanting to hear the satisfying reverberating sound, but he was not going to lose his temper in school. Not any more than he already had.

He needed to tell Ms. Poldma that he wasn’t tutoring Ronan anymore. That was the responsible thing to do. This was how the whole thing was going to end, anyway.

Ms. Poldma’s classroom was on the next floor, so he headed up the stairs and to her room. It was always calming in there, even during AP Lit when everyone was arguing about something in a book. She’d hung colorful scarves on the wall and written, “Welcome All” on the door. And she was constantly brewing tea in her back office, the scent of which wafted into the class.

At the moment, she was sitting on top of her desk with notes spread all around her and a giant textbook in her lap which she was annotating.

“Ms. Poldma?” Adam said, when he inched the door open.

“Come in,” she said. “I’m just working on my thesis.”

Ms. Poldma was eternally working on her master’s thesis, which as far as Adam could tell was about at least ten wildly different topics. Seeing her perched on the desk already settled his nerves.

She didn’t ask what he was doing here, just placed a ribbon in the textbook and set it down on her desk before pulling her knees towards herself. Adam leaned against one of the desks.

“I don’t think I should tutor Ronan anymore,” he said.

“Why is that?” she asked.

“We got into a… an argument.” Saying it was a fight made it sound like they were an old married couple. It wasn’t something that was appropriate for school.

“An argument about what?” Ms. Poldma pressed. “Your teaching tactics? Or something irrelevant to the tutoring?”

Adam sighed. “He doesn’t want to apply to college. We just. Argued about that.”

“Why is that any of your concern?” Ms. Poldma said. From anyone else, Adam would have gotten angrier hearing that, but she sounded genuinely curious.

“Because… That’s not the point. The point is he started telling me that college is a waste of time and that I was, that I was wasting my time. And then he brought up.” Adam scrunched up his fists. He didn’t know why he felt like crying. “I said that he wouldn’t get it, that he’s rich so he wouldn’t get it, and he said I just say things about money to prove a point. That’s why. OK? I don’t want to tutor him anymore.”

Ms. Poldma looked at him seriously, then said, “I understand. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. One second, though, I think I hear my teakettle going off…”

She wandered into the back room while Adam sat down at one of the desks. He felt like such a fucking idiot. He wasn’t even angry anymore, he was just sad.

He’d started wanting to tutor Ronan. He’d started looking forward to the tutoring sessions. He’d thought… He had thought that Ronan didn’t hate him and think of him as just some inherently lesser thing. He hated that that had turned out to be a lie.

Ms. Poldma emerged from the back room with a cup of tea and two plates of pie, precariously balanced in her hands. She set the tea and one plate on her desk and put the other plate on Adam’s desk.

“Blackberry,” she said. “You’d like blackberry pie.”

Adam did, in fact, like blackberry pie, based on the one time he’d had it years ago when a neighbor had babysat him and been unexpectedly nice. He didn’t know how Ms. Poldma had figured that out.

“You… want me to eat this pie?” he asked.

“Not if it’s a horrible sacrifice,” she said. “But I had pie in the back and I figured we could have some while we talked.”

It was such a nice thing to do. He didn’t know why that bothered him.

He hadn’t had breakfast, of course, and he knew from experience that Ms. Poldma’s pies were delicious. She was already back atop her desk, eating her slice of pie and sipping her tea, so Adam tried some. It was interesting, as usual. There were some sort of herbs in there that Adam didn’t think would be in pie, but they worked.

They ate in silence for a bit, then Ms. Poldma said, “Being a teacher is really difficult. And I know you don’t plan to become a teacher, but you are someone who educates and guides and inspires others. So there are a lot of similarities, I think, between what I do and what you do. And Adam, sometimes students are really awful. I think that’s the worst thing. You expect the parents to be awful, you expect the administrators to be awful, you even expect the students to be annoying and difficult. But it breaks my heart when students are outright cruel. I’m sorry that you had to experience a student being actually terrible.”

Adam, to his surprise, laughed.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I really appreciate you saying that, it’s just. He wasn’t terrible, he was just… All right, he was terrible.”

Ms. Poldma laughed too. “I know what you mean.”

“I mean, I don’t feel as bad about it anymore, I think. Thank you for the pie. That helped.”

He wasn’t angry anymore. He was breathing normally again.

“I still don’t know if I want to tutor him anymore,” he said. “I know I ought to, but he makes me so angry. It’s probably him just acting out, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to tutor someone who always gets me so angry.”

“That’s a very mature approach to the situation,” Ms. Poldma said. “All right, well, there’s still a week until his next tutoring session. I’ll have time to find someone else before then.”

“Thank you,” Adam said. “I really do appreciate it.”

The warning bell rang for the end of study hall, and Adam said, “I’ll see you in class? Should I take this plate to the back room?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Ms. Poldma said, but Adam picked up his plate and took it to the back room anyway.

 

Ronan did _not_ have to do what Gwen said just because she was his “therapist” or whatever the fuck. He wished she would stop giving him bullshit assignments. The first part wasn’t so terrible: tell Gansey about the fight with Adam. OK, yeah, it was shitty, but not as bad as part fucking two: apologize to Parrish.

“And why the hell exactly do I have to do that?” he’d asked.

Gwen had said: “You realize you did something wrong, right?”

“Fine, yeah, I guess. I don’t know how fucking apologizing will help.”

Gwen had talked in incomprehensible therapist language for what felt like hours about why apologizing was the greatest thing on the planet, and then finally said, “I know you don’t understand why it will help, but it will. I’m not forcing you to do anything, but I really hope you consider apologizing.”

Ronan hated it, but he could feel himself being resigned to doing what she said. He would procrastinate it until their next meeting, granted, but he’d do it.

Or not. He was wild and spontaneous. Anything could happen.

When he got back to Monmouth, he collapsed onto his bed, wanting but not wanting to take a nap. He’d had a shitty night of sleep the night before, and the fight in the morning had made him exhausted all day. He didn’t know why he fought like that- all teeth. Maybe it was how he’d been taught by his night horrors.

He _hated_ talking about his future. To be honest, he hadn’t expected to have a future at all, so he kept seeing great stretches of nothing there. He just knew he didn’t want more school. He couldn’t stand institutional learning, it made him itch. And to hear Adam prattling on like Ms. Greenmantle or Declan or someone, about how college was so goddamn important- it made his spikes shoot out. He _was_ sorry that he’d said something so shitty about Adam’s money and made him feel bad, but he was still so angry that he would never admit he was sorry.

And he didn’t like examining why he was angry. Sure, it was a dumbass thing to be angry about, probably, but he was still angry, so he was going to stay angry, and he was going to listen to music and try not to fall asleep.

He put on his headphones and blasted some shitty EDM, and laid back with his eyes closed.

The next thing he knew, Gansey was tapping on his shoulder.

“Ronan. Ronan, are you OK?”

He’d taken off Ronan’s headphones, which was usually a major offense, but Ronan was so groggy that he didn’t care.

“What’s going on?” Ronan asked.

“I think you fell asleep.”

“What? How?”

“Well, I assume at some point you laid down on the bed and closed your eyes.”

“Ugh,” Ronan said, sitting up. He hadn’t slept properly in ages. It was really dark out, and his clock said it was 9:15. Five hours since he’d gotten back from therapy. Five hours of sleep without nightmares. He’d just blacked out.

Naps after shitty days were usually ripe for nightmares. His mind must have been so exhausted that it didn’t even have the energy for its usual bullshit.

“I didn’t want to wake you up if you were getting some sleep for once,” Gansey said. “But it’s 9 already. I thought you should have some dinner.”

“Yeah, good call,” Ronan said. “You got anything?”

“I got us burgers.”

“Anything else?” Ronan added hopefully. The burger place Gansey liked had the best onion rings.

“Yeah, I got you an order of onion rings. I figured you needed comfort food if you’re sick, or whatever’s going on.”

“I’m not sick. I was just tired as shit. I feel better now. But I still need onion rings, yeah.”

Gansey looked a little exasperated, a comfortingly familiar expression. Ronan got out of bed and headed downstairs. He half-expected Noah to be there- it felt like last year, like before Noah had graduated, when Gansey was still spending half his time with his online forum of archaeology nerds trying to find lost treasures. Before the summer of blood and death and drugs and nearly getting Matthew killed.

“Gansey,” he said, once they’d finished their burgers and were working on the onion rings. “I have to tell you something, but you can’t get mad.”

Gansey looked up attentively, and he said, “You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t think Parrish is gonna tutor me anymore. I got into a fight with him.”

“Oh,” Gansey said. “OK.”

That wasn’t what Ronan had expected to hear. He was used to Gansey telling him how irresponsible he was.

“So, you’re not gonna tell me what a piece of shit I am for ruining this?” he added.

“What? No,” Gansey said. “Why do you think I would say that?”

“Well, historically you’ve said shit like that.”

“You think I’m that bad of a friend?”

“Gansey, for fuck’s sake, I wasn’t trying to insult you, I-” God. “I was trying to insult _me_.”

“Well, don’t do that. It makes me feel sad to see you be mean to yourself.”

“Sorry if you’re sad, then. Jesus Christ.”

Gansey sighed, exasperated again, and said, “You know what? I should be more patient with you.”

“You’re making me sound like a five-year-old,” Ronan muttered.

“Well, maybe you are a five-year-old, and maybe that’s not a bad thing. You’ve been through some rough ordeals. Maybe you deserve to act like a five-year-old. A little. Not an insufferable amount.”

Ronan looked up.

“Thanks,” he said. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

It was odd- being told he was allowed to be a little shit made him want to be a little shit less. Probably because he just wanted to defy authority. Or maybe because he felt safe.

He took a deep breath.

“The fight was about college,” he said. “I’m not going to college. I’m not applying. I don’t want to go.”

Gansey crossed his legs, then crossed his arms.

“Why not?” he asked.

He looked like he was open to hearing the truth, so Ronan decided to be honest in an honest way, instead of honest in an assholey way.

“Because I don’t like rules,” he said. “I don’t like going to places that are full of rules. I can’t handle it. I want to… well, I don’t know. I want to be free.”

It was cheesy as shit, so he added, “Yeah, I know it’s cheesy as shit.”

“No, it’s honest,” Gansey said insistently. “It makes sense. You know, I’ve been thinking I might not even go to college right away.”

“ _What?_ ” Ronan blurted out.

Now that was unexpected.

“I know, I know,” Gansey said. “The Golden Boy, not going to college right away. I don’t know. I think I want to be free, too.”

Ronan looked Gansey in the eye.

He’d forgotten, in these past few months when Gansey had been a guardian more than a friend, that he really loved Gansey, and that some part of them was inherently the same. The part that felt different from everyone else.

“Besides,” Gansey added, “there are so many other options now. Gap years are becoming more trendy, Helen says-”

“Gross, you ruined it.”

“I’m serious! It’s possible to take a gap year, or to start saving up, or get an internship, go to technical school, about a thousand other things. You could start volunteering.”

Ronan mimed vomiting, and Gansey gave him a halfhearted Look.

“I wanna get into farming, maybe,” Ronan said. “I could go back to the Barns, if we manage to sort out the legal shit. I dunno. It’s not like I’m gonna do nothing.”

“I know,” Gansey said. “I… I know.”

It sounded like he hadn’t known, but Ronan kind of got that. He’d been prone to doing nothing for a while now.

“I know,” Gansey said, finally. “We’re gonna figure it out.”

Then he added, “You, uh, you’re still graduating high school, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ronan said. “I suffered this long, I might as well get a useless piece of paper out of it.”

Gansey laughed, then said, “It’s not useless.”

“Sure.”

“If you’re going to graduate, are you going to try and get good grades, still?”

Ronan sighed. He knew it would come back to this.

“I told you,” he said. “Parrish and I had a fight. I guess we could try and get a different tutor. Honestly, I can probably just figure this shit out on my own. It’s not that hard. I mean, I found out that if you read the textbook, you basically get like 80% of the info you need.”

“Yes, Ronan. That’s common sense.”

“Also, taking notes.”

“Also common sense.”

“Oh yeah, let’s see your notes. Half of it is bullshit doodles of those dead Welsh guys and half of it is goddamn newspaper clippings.”

“Excuse me, my notes are a work of art.”

“Well, my notes are great, now that I take them.”

Gansey took another onion ring pensively.

“I think Parrish had a really good influence on you,” he said. “You don’t have to keep working with him if you don’t want to, obviously, but I think… I don’t know. I think going to tutoring with him was good for you.”

Ronan didn’t say anything.

“I mean, a few months back you couldn’t be in the same room with him without getting into a shouting match.”

“And what exactly is the difference now?” Ronan said, his voice lower and more irritated.

“This was the first time you had any real argument in ages.”

“So? I ruined it, come on, I ruin everything. That isn’t me feeling sorry for myself, I’m just being honest.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Gansey said. “It was just a fight.”

“I was…” Ronan looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his leather bracelets. He didn’t want to remember how he’d snapped out, going for Adam’s weak points, like he was wrestling and had seen an opening to strike. He hated being like that, he thrived on being like that, he _hated_ being like that.

“I know how you fight,” Gansey said. “You probably hurt his feelings a lot, but it still doesn’t mean you ruined everything. You can still apologize and make up for it. I think it’s worth it, if you ask me.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Ronan said, pettily.

He took another onion ring- they were cold by now, but still good.

“I’m gonna apologize, though,” he said quietly, a minute later. “Not to try and fix it. Just ‘cause he deserves to know that I’m sorry and I didn’t mean it.”

Gansey nodded.

“See?” he said. “You are becoming better.”

 

Whenever Adam came to 300 Fox Way for dinner, every single woman in the house tried to convince him to stay the night. Blue would offer him to stay in her bed, saying she’d sleep on the floor, but Adam thought that would be way too awkward. Either way, he didn’t want to stay over, to encroach on their privacy, to take advantage of their hospitality. He had his own apartment, no matter how shitty it was, and it was his, and he had to stay there.

But the women of Fox Way always managed to convince him to stay quite late, and take home leftovers from dinner, and Ms. Poldma would usually emerge from her room with a long-forgotten blanket or suspiciously brand-new toothbrush that she would more or less force Adam to take.

Blue and Adam were hanging out in the living room, working through a giant packet Mr. Waters had assigned them for AP Bio. Blue had spent every five minutes lamenting the fact that Mr. Waters would give them such a huge assignment the night before _his_ field trip. Adam, personally, was used to multitasking, but he joined her complaining so as not to make her feel alone in it.

“Half the fun of field trips is not having to do work,” Blue said.

“I thought you were going on this field trip because of how much you love gardening club,” Adam said.

“Yes, your club is amazing, I love plants, whatever. I want to get out of pre-calc. Whelk is literally the worst person on the planet. If I have to hear him talk about logaristics one more time-”

“Logarithms.”

“-I will crush his skull. So I need to get out of school, _without_ having to do all this homework.”

“We’re almost done with the packet,” Adam said.

“We have 5 pages left!”

“That’s way less than before, come on.”

They got three more pages done before Blue insisted on breaking for dinner. She ventured into the kitchen and brought back a pot of pasta, two bowls, two forks, and a container of Parmesan cheese, carefully balanced in her arms.

“Adam, put away that packet, I mean it. We are eating this pasta.”

He hated having to stop his homework for meals, but Blue was insistent, and he set the packet on the floor and grabbed some pasta. It had some vegetables he didn’t recognize and a spicy sauce, and was pretty good.

“So,” Blue said, with a mouthful of pasta, “Gansey told me that Lynch is coming on the trip tomorrow.”

“Excuse me, did I hear that right?” Adam said. “You were talking to Gansey? Willingly?”

He knew he was avoiding the point of what Blue had said.

Blue covered her face in her hands. “Yeah, whatever. I take back what I said about him being the ungodly lovechild of Croc shoes and yacht parties.”

“And what you said about how when he was born, the rivers ran with money or something?”

“The rivers ran gold with the money of Wall Street,” Blue said, grinning. “But yeah, no, I take that back, I guess. He’s not so bad. Just a fucking idiot. But not so bad.”

“So, what? You’re friends now?”

“Ugh. God.” Blue mimed throwing up. “We’re friendly acquaintances at best. Don’t push it. Besides, you changed the subject. How are you going to handle seeing Lynch?”

Adam rolled his eyes.

“You make everything so emotional,” he said. “I’m not a girl, I think I can handle spending the day with someone I had a fight with.”

“Ohhh, you did not just say that,” Blue said. “Oh, no. You take that back, Adam Parrish. You’re not a girl so you don’t have stupid emotions? No, no, no. You do not get to use misogyny to avoid your interpersonal issues. Take it back.”

“Sorry,” Adam said, rubbing a hand over his head. He didn’t really think girls were more emotional, but he’d been raised with the mantra _don’t be a fucking girl, don’t cry like a bitch_ running over and over. It wasn’t as easy as Blue seemed to think to get away from it, even though she was right, it was shitty.

He’d been avoiding Ronan for the past almost-a-week. Tomorrow was Wednesday, the day of the gardening club field trip, and Thursday was the day Ms. Poldma would assign Ronan a new student tutor. She’d been patient enough not to ask Adam about whether he’d changed his mind, even earlier today when she’d given him and Blue plates of cranberry crisp to eat. And Adam, well, he had just not brought it up, but he’d certainly been thinking about it.

About everything that could possibly relate to it. College, and why he wanted to go, and why someone might not want to go. The student tutoring program, and how it had been different with Ronan. Money, and rich kids, and scholarships, and how his stomach clenched when he thought about the independent bank account he’d gotten the second he turned eighteen and how empty it was. And he thought about Ronan Lynch.

“It’ll be awkward,” Blue said. “There’s no avoiding that.”

“Why do I care so much?” Adam said. “It’s dumb. When did I start giving a damn what Lynch thinks?”

Blue raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You’ve _always_ given a damn what he thinks,” Blue said. “Seriously. He’s the only person I’ve ever seen you fight with. He’s always gotten on your nerves.”

“Lots of people get on my nerves,” Adam muttered. “Gansey used to annoy the hell out of me.”

“Yeah, well, Gansey is a special case, we know that. Come on. You and Ronan have always been… like that.”

“What do you mean, _like that_?” Adam asked, a little too defensively.

Blue gave him a look. “Like, two magnetic poles. Just constantly ready to start shit. I don’t know, maybe this is just my _girly_ emotional instincts-”

“OK, I’m sorry, I mean it, Blue-”

“-but I think you two just read that as, oh, we have to hate each other. You don’t, though. Having a weird, contradictory connection isn’t always reserved for hatred, you know. Sometimes that makes for really good friendships, too.”

She sighed. “Not that I would know, since I have, like, three friends. I guess I’m talking out of my ass trying to tell you about friendship.”

“I wouldn’t know any better,” Adam said. “You and maybe Henry are my only real friends.”

“Oh, come on. What about Gansey? Noah?”

“I don’t think Gansey would consider me a friend,” Adam said, shrugging and staring down at the pasta sauce on his plate.

“ _Pshaw_ ,” Blue said. “Have you heard him talk about you? Please.”

It was true that Gansey would sometimes go on about how Adam was a wonderful genius, but Gansey probably did that with everyone.

“Whatever, you and Gansey are apparently best friends now, anyway,” Adam said.

“I _never_ said best friends!” Blue exclaimed, standing up from the couch. “Acquaintances! I said _acquaintances!_ Adam, you are putting words in my mouth, this is slander!”

Adam cracked up. He felt warm. Sometimes, in contrast with everything he thought his life in Henrietta was, he felt happy, like a person who had friends. He was feeling that now.

 

“Relax, Ronan, you’re sitting with me,” Gansey said. “But seriously, today is the perfect time to apologize-”

“Shut up,” Ronan hissed. “Why don’t we tell the entire bus my business?”

Ronan had not been on a school bus since middle school, which was also the last time he’d been on a school field trip. It felt exceedingly childish, but apparently, that was a feeling he was just going to have to fight through, because this was a huge social activity and would count for endless brownie points in therapy, and with Gansey.

He’d averted his gaze when he walked past Adam, who was at the front of the bus with Mr. Waters, and headed to the back. Gansey, ever the loyal friend, had sat near Ronan and not with his other, peppier friends at the front.

“Ronan,” Gansey said, quieter now, and leaning in. “It will only take a few moments to apologize, and then you’ll feel better, and then you can complain about it to me as much as you want. And I told you, I’ll listen to that… whatever it’s called…”

“Screamo death metal,” Ronan muttered. “I told you a million times.”

“Yes. Screamo death metal. I’ll listen to it. Just apologize to him.”

“Got it,” Ronan said.

He put on his headphones and blared something loud and miserable. It wasn’t a long bus drive to the big plant nursery they were visiting, but he didn’t want to think during it.

God. The thought of apologizing made him nauseous. Not in a… bad way? But yes, in a bad way.

When they got there, Mr. Waters called out, “All right, everyone, we’re splitting into two groups. First group is gonna do the tour first, second group is gonna do the worksheet first, then we’ll switch.”

Ronan could see Adam heading to the front of the tour group, so he casually steered Gansey in the direction of the other group.

“All right,” Gansey said, stretching his arms out so he could examine the worksheet from a distance. “Let’s get started on this first question.”

“No,” Ronan said. “I’m gonna just look at all the plants. Uh, if that’s OK, I mean.” He was considerate now. Super great at being polite.

Gansey sighed.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “You wanna be alone? I can go do the worksheet with some of the others.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna just chill alone,” Ronan said. “Meet up with you later?”

Gansey nodded.

The nursery was pretty big. It was almost big enough to get lost in, but not quite. Ronan wandered off until he could only hear a little of everyone else’s conversations. Surrounding him were lines of potted plants, and the edge of the big greenhouse- much cleaner than the one at Aglionby. Much, much cleaner than the Barns, of course. A hose stretched under the table of shrubs, and an artificial rock fountain was a little ways away, bubbling gently.

It was peaceful. Technically. It wasn’t real, but, well, you had to buy your seeds and saplings somewhere.

He’d brought one of Gansey’s old messenger bags, so he could keep his headphones and shit without lugging a backpack. No one was near him- it was clearly the back corner of the greenhouse, the plants no one wanted to look at. Good.

Carefully, he pulled out a sketchbook. It was from Michael’s. He’d bought a bunch on sale, and a ton of good pencils and pens, and now if he wanted to draw, he was set.

It still kind of hurt to draw. After spending so much time only doing it to draw his nightmares. His old sketchbook was filled with claws, blood, bodies. He’d just stopped after last summer, when- when- when Kavinsky had-

He’d just thought that it was doing more harm than good, to take stuff out of his head and put it on paper.

But Gwen had suggested that he start up again, and draw good things. And well, he loved drawing. He wanted to draw things like his father had. Beautiful things, things that made people happy. Maybe one day he would even make sculptures and wild exhibitions, too, although he wouldn’t destroy things to do it, like his father had done- by accident, of course- it had to be by accident- to Mr. Waters’ land.

It was getting easier.

He concentrated on the pot of hydrangeas. When he started, they were hydrangeas, then shapes and lines, and then they became shadows and light. And then they became something more like hydrangeas again- known to him. Understood.

“All right, if you come here- and oops, we _are_ reaching the back of the greenhouse- we’ve got our shrubs. Can anyone tell me some qualities of the shrub family?”

Ronan snapped his sketchbook shut and stood up.

“Shrubs are woody plants,” Adam said, from the front of the tour group that was approaching where Ronan had been sitting. “They usually have many woody stems, and they’re smaller than trees.”

“Correct!” the tour guide said. Ronan tried to escape, but she moved towards the space between the table and his only escape route.

Damn it.

The tour guide went on about shrubs, and Adam spotted Ronan and gave a small nod of recognition. This was Ronan’s worst nightmare. Worse than night horrors. Nods of recognition were much worse.

Now Adam was walking over, and Ronan resigned himself to getting this over with.

He stood near Ronan and ran his hands over the hydrangeas, tracing their flowers and stems. Ronan looked elsewhere, his mind reframing the hydrangea drawing like it had been a section of puzzle pieces, washed away by Adam’s hands.

Couldn’t his brain just be normal for once?

“How’s the worksheet going?” Adam said, when the tour group had left. Mr. Waters had given the two of them a meaningful glance and then left.

“How’s the tour going?” Ronan asked.

“I already saw it last week when Mr. Waters and I came to check out the place. I was just tagging along to be nice.”

“Well, I already did the worksheet last week, so now I’m just doing shit nothing,” Ronan said. “If only I could do the worksheet again, it was just so much fun.”

“Not as fun as standing around next to the shrubs and staring into space, though.”

“Yeah, nothing could be as fun as that.”

They both stared at their hands. Ronan released a long breath. He closed his eyes and opened them again.

“Sorry I was a dick,” he muttered.

Adam looked up at him and nodded.

Ronan steeled himself to say more honest things. His fists tightened around themselves.

“You don’t have to… The point is I just, I don’t want to go to college. And thinking about it makes me become an asshole. Like, more than usual. And- you can go to college. You should. If anyone should go to college, you should. So I’m sorry that I said all that shit. I didn’t mean any of it. It was just me being a dick. And. That’s all I have to say, so if you wanna go and do the tour or some shit and never talk to me again-”

“Relax,” Adam said. “It’s fine. Thank you, seriously.” He cleared his throat. “I get it. Not everyone goes to college.”

“I- But I’m not saying you’re stupid for going. Or that anyone is. I know- Like I get that sometimes you have to do shit. And I’m lucky that I have the option to do whatever I want.” God, why did he _not know_ how to talk?

Adam nodded again.

“Seriously,” he said. “It’s fine. And you know, uh, I can help you figure out how to work shit out with your guidance counselor. They’re there to help you with alternative graduation paths, too, it’s just that Greenmantle will never admit it. But I can help you work out the paperwork-”

“You don’t have to do that,” Ronan said.

“It’s part of my job as your tutor, to be honest.”

Ronan looked up then. Adam looked serious.

“You quit,” Ronan said.

“I’m un-quitting.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. You apologized for being a dick. It’s my job to teach you, regardless.”

Ronan felt himself smiling. He tried to stem it. Technically, it was nothing to be happy about. So he would have to go back to wasting his Thursday and Friday mornings on this bullshit.

He was happy about it.

“Fine, so, back to taking notes and shit,” he said, trying to brush it off.

“What do you mean? You never took notes,” Adam said.

“Right!” Ronan said. “Yeah, back to you telling me to take notes, and me not doing it, I mean.”

Adam grinned. The October light coming through the greenhouse walls made a sort of crown appear in his hair. He was something radiant.

“Tomorrow during study hall?” he said.

“Yeah,” Ronan said. He swallowed the knot in his throat.

“You did the bio packet?”

Ronan shrugged.

Adam rolled his eyes.

 

Well, at least now Adam knew why he felt so weird around Ronan. He was attracted to him. It was fine, attraction didn’t mean anything. It was a biological function. No one could control their attractions, but they could control their reaction to it. He would act normally.

God, why did he have to treat dumb crushes like world-ending events?

Blue, sitting next to him on the bus, said, “You doing OK?”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “I’m always doing OK.”

He wasn’t gonna bother with fantasies or daydreams- that had not worked with Keisha in the ninth grade, with Gansey in the tenth grade, with any number of other girls and boys over the years, except Blue and his seventh-grade girlfriend, and those relationships had ended badly. There was no point. No point. He wasn’t a romantic, he wasn’t the kind of person who loved, who was serious about relationships like that. Really, it wasn’t even that heartbreaking, not even at all. It was just some hot guy who he got along with. Otherwise known as friendship.

Weird friendship.

He was gonna be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like this! I appreciate all your comments. I researched shrubs for this lmao... Also, if you have any suggestions for more adults to turn into teachers, let me know. I had to put Whelk in this and I hate him :( Anyway. Thank you so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> my Twitter is @ArielKalati and my Tumblr is arielmagicesi if you want to talk to me there! leave a comment because I love attention, of any kind


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